


The Only Exception

by kagurasbuns



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-01-11 23:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagurasbuns/pseuds/kagurasbuns
Summary: Immortality, art, and revenge: these were Akasuna no Sasori's only goals in life. He had practically carved them into his destiny. Nothing else mattered... until his new partner came into his life, ready to challenge every single one of Sasori's predetermined beliefs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved Sasori ever since I was a child, so I just hated how Kishimoto neglected him worse than Chiyo did. Sooo... this is a sort of Fix-It fic in the sense that I (attempt to) write the build-up that Kishi never gave us.
> 
> Shoutout again to the best mom friend ever, winterdesu, for being my beta!! Please check her stuff out, she wrote an amazing domestic SasuNaru fic if you're interested!! I LOVE U SO MUCH
> 
> EDIT (7/24/19): I'm sorry for all of the edits that I keep making! The truth is, I'm actually still trying to figure out what I'm writing ahdssdshf and perfectionism is a bitch. If you've noticed this is probably the third time I've changed the description. But don't worry - I'll figure it out! Somehow...
> 
> (7/26): If you didn't see the "third" version of the description, great, 'cuz you didn't miss anything! Just... move along xD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Akatsuki recruit a new member to replace Orochimaru.

The workshop of Akatsuki’s only artist was small but had everything he needed for his craft: meathooks for draining corpses, a pair of operating tables for cleaning and carving his creations, a wooden desk, and a clutter of cabinets containing paraphernalia for poison and puppetry. The rocky walls were dimly lit by a candle chandelier. The room was cold and reeked of death and wood, hostile for a human environment. It fit Akasuna no Sasori’s purposes superbly - it was his own artistic sanctuary.

Now, however, Sasori glared at the chaos he had carelessly allowed into his once-spotless workshop. Experiments and results of Orochimaru’s twisted science littered the floor.  Thankfully, the man didn’t store his kidnapped children in here - now that would have been a real hassle to clean up - but these jars and bottles containing god-knows-what really weren’t any better, as Sasori had no idea what to do with them. He debated for a moment if releasing children would have been a more convenient task. Eventually, he came to a conclusion: Orochimaru wasn’t worth _any_ kind of trouble, be it returning children or jars or lifting his damn pinky.   

Sasori reached for the last jar on the shelf, descended from the stepladder, and cursed his old partner. Gritting his porcelain teeth, Sasori stamped down the anger threatening to crawl outside of his chest - or his core, he really wasn’t so sure - and cleansed his workshop of Orochimaru’s belongings.

* * *

In just a few days, Sasori’s workshop was spick and span once more, devoid of any trace of Orochimaru having even been there in the first place. Once again, Akatsuki’s one and only artist was back at his craft with a vengeance. 

That was why, when Pein had summoned him to brief him along with Itachi and Kisame about their newest recruit, Sasori realized just how much he wanted to work alone. He had been perfectly fine on his own; before Orochimaru, Sasori had taken on villages and Kages for nine years under the Akatsuki without needing a partner to back him up. He was cunning, powerful, and independent - a partner had proven to be more of a liability at this point. Still, between him and Pein, Sasori was unfortunately the blind follower.

The more Sasori heard about his new partner, the more he dreaded meeting him: a twelve-year-old bomber from Iwagakure who apparently had three mouths. Sasori could only imagine how loud he would be - Sasori could have withstood the noise that came with explosions alone - but three mouths weren’t exactly easy to handle, even if Sasori didn’t have human eardrums anymore. The fact that he was working with a _child_ didn’t help, either.

That was why when they finally found Deidara, Sasori’s determination to kill Orochimaru doubled all the more. Any trouble that Sasori and the Akatsuki would have to go through for a traitor simply wasn’t worth it.  

Deidara sat in the middle of a stone temple, awash under the hot Iwa sunset, his back turned to the three of them. Sasori couldn’t see much from this point of view, but the kid appeared to be molding something. Maybe pottery. It was common for Iwa-nin to handle earthenware and the like; they specialized in earth techniques, after all.

Sasori rolled his eyes. He hated waiting, but he wasn’t about to go out of his way to get this brat’s attention.

Kisame, thankfully, spoke up after ages of dead silence. “Deidara-san, we are members of the Akatsuki. We have heard about your talent and would like to offer you a position in our organization.”

There was a pregnant pause until Deidara finally turned to them. His eyes were the brightest shade of blue that Sasori had ever seen. If all else failed, Sasori would definitely harvest this brat’s eyeballs, at the very least. 

“The Akatsuki?” Deidara scoffed. “Sorry, but I don’t know anything about it, and I frankly don’t care. The only thing I want to do is focus on my art.”

Sasori perked up. "Art?" Pein didn’t mention anything about the kid being interested in art. Not that it was critical information, but…  

Deidara flashed a mysterious smile in Sasori’s direction before turning his back to them once more. Sasori glared at him inside of Hiruko, feeling inexplicably unnerved by the gesture.  

“I make art with clay.” Deidara continued to mold whatever he was working on, this time with hastened movements, as if he were excited to show them his creation. “Wanna see it?”

Kisame chuckled. “We’ve actually heard quite a lot about you, so you don’t need to–”

“No.”  

Deidara held up what appeared to be a sculpture of a miniature spider - that’s what he had been working on the whole time, apparently, and turned to them with a proud smile.

Sasori moved his chakra threads to make Hiruko scowl.

“That’s your art?” Sasori scoffed. 

Deidara grinned back at him. “Doesn’t look much on its own, does it? But...” he reared back, as if to throw the sculpture, and—

“Art is an _explosion_!”

They evaded the attack with ease, and waited for to Deidara hold up his pointer and middle finger - the signature hand seal that Pein warned them about. “ _Katsu_!”

The clay burst into an impressive explosion that ripped a hole in the wall. The three of them emerged unscathed from the falling chunks of rock. Deidara had finally stood up to face them, this time with two different miniature clay sculptures in both hands. Unfortunately for him, he was staring right into Itachi’s Sharingan - and before the battle had even begun, it was already over. 

* * *

“Stupid eyes,” Deidara muttered under his breath as he followed behind the trio, still sulky from losing to Itachi in just a second. His Akatsuki cloak was loosely draped over his native clothes. “How far is your hideout, anyway? Are we there yet?” 

Sasori had never recalled a time when his patience was tested so frequently in a single day. It was the third time Deidara had asked the same question in the same _hour_. “Almost,” he answered, “so just keep quiet and follow us.”

“You Akatsuki guys sure love bossing people around, don’t you? _You_ , especially.” Deidara picked up his pace so he was a few steps ahead of Sasori to turn around and look at him. “What are you, anyway? You’re seriously not this ugly thing, aren’t you?” He made a face. “I mean… nobody could be _this_ hideous.” 

That did it for Sasori. Sasori swiped at the brat with Hiruko’s tail with half the mind to seriously injure Deidara, but he dodged it just in the nick of time.

“Now, now, Sasori-san, let’s not get your new partner poisoned right away,” Kisame said lightheartedly. “Still have the other one, remember?”

Sasori reluctantly retracted his tail.

“ _You,_ ” Sasori growled, widening Hiruko’s eyes menacingly at Deidara, “watch your mouth, before I shut it myself.”

Deidara smirked contemptuously. “Oh yeah? You can’t even be bothered to show me your real face.”

Familiar anger sparked in Sasori’s nonexistent guts. It was a phantom pain that he’d occasionally experience when he was frustrated with art, but ever since Orochimaru left, it had been appearing more frequently, and now he felt like he was on the verge of exploding. At this point, the possibility of Sasori murdering his new partner before he’d even claimed retribution over Orochimaru was getting more likely to occur with each dangerous second.

“You have no right to order me around, brat,” Sasori spat, and his fingers trembled slightly for some reason, so the chakra threads used to push wind out of his puppet’s mouth caused Hiruko to sound a little shaky.

“Well, guess I’m just not gonna listen to you, freak.”

Before Sasori could even react at the insult, Itachi stepped in between them, eyes an icy, dispassionate red. Deidara’s warm blue ones in turn widened with surprise.

“You’re a part of us now, Deidara,” Itachi said coolly. “Respect your comrades.”

Deidara’s features contorted ever so slightly with thinly veiled rage, mirroring Sasori just moments ago. In the end, however, Deidara simply huffed and crossed his arms like a chastised child.

“Fine.” Deidara stomped back behind them to his original spot. “Lead the way then, freak.”

“His name is Sasori,” Kisame informed Deidara.

Deidara grunted. “Then lead the way, Master Sasori!”

Satisfaction bubbled up inside of Sasori. His name with an honorific didn’t sound bad at all. All of the anger clouding his head a while ago seemed to evaporate when he heard Deidara utter his name with respect, albeit forcefully.

The trio continued on their journey back to Akatsuki’s headquarters in blissful silence. Maybe Sasori just needed to be a bit more patient. If he could handle that, then perhaps he didn’t have to turn Deidara into a puppet… just yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deidara and Sasori are ordered to hunt Orochimaru down, but it seems that the two will hunt each other down first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Added some dialogue. 
> 
> Notes for this chapter:  
> 1\. Loosely based off of Episode 457 ("Partner"), though I've changed and added a lot of things.  
> 2\. The omake from Episode 25 is disregarded.

The tension between Sasori and Deidara didn’t clear until two days later when Pein had finally summoned them together for the first time. The two had adamantly refused to acknowledge each other’s presence in that period: Sasori holed himself up in his workshop, while Deidara interacted with every Akatsuki member except for his own partner and Itachi. He was quite the social butterfly, getting reactions from each member with the provisional fireworks that he’d made with his clay with varying degrees of success.

Sasori loathed it. He could hear those little explosions even deep within the walls of his workshop. Every time Deidara yelled “Katsu!”, a drizzle of dust from the ceiling would follow. If Sasori was already brimming with frustration when Deidara was at a safe distance from him, then he had no idea just what the brat’s fate would be if they were forced to be in close quarters with one another.

Of course, that’s exactly what Pein was expecting of him so early in the morning. Sasori usually didn’t care what time of the day it was; for him, he was either working on missions, or on puppets. Now, everything was suddenly magnified: the sound of Deidara’s palm mouths chewing clay, the way he kept running his fingers through his hair (he’d tied it into a ponytail already - Sasori wanted to comment, _nobody could look this hideous_ ) every now and then, and a million other things that irrationally got under Sasori’s artificial skin. All of it was thanks to this annoying brat.

“I hope you two are getting along.” Pein greeted them loftily. “How are things?”

That was one trademark about Pein: Sasori could never tell if he was being purposely sarcastic or blissfully ignorant. In either case, Pein truly lived up to his name.

Deidara crossed his arms. “Just fine, yeah,” he answered blandly, turning to Sasori. “Right, Master?”

At least Deidara wasn’t purposely making Sasori’s life more miserable - Deidara was just naturally irritating. “Hn,” Sasori agreed with equal disinterest.

Pein stared at the duo for a moment before he continued. “Your first mission is to kill Orochimaru. Sasori, fill Deidara in on everything he needs to know. Is your spy still functional?”

Hiruko nodded once.  

“Very well. Do you have something to say, Deidara?” Pein said.

“Who’s Orochimaru?” Deidara asked.

“He was Sasori’s partner. He defected from the organization.”

“Why’d he leave?”

Hiruko stared at Pein almost earnestly, who took the hint. “It is not my story to tell.”

Deidara’s lips pursed with dissatisfaction.

“If that is all, I shall leave you both to your devices.”

Pein’s staticky silhouette flickered out of existence, leaving the two alone.

Sasori glared at Deidara.

“If we’re going to work together, then we probably shouldn’t be trying to kill each other, yeah?” Deidara shrugged at him, appearing to sense Sasori’s temper. Huh, he’s not completely clueless.

“Just don’t be a nuisance and keep your mouth shut unless I specifically instruct you to talk,” Hiruko growled.

“Sure,” Deidara said offhandedly. The dangerous twinkle in Deidara’s eyes told Sasori otherwise, though.

* * *

According to Kabuto, Orochimaru’s hideout was in the Land of Wind, which just so happened to be near Suna. Sasori briefly entertained the idea of Orochimaru purposely setting his base up there just to rub salt into Sasori’s wounds. Orochimaru knew how much disdain Sasori felt for his home village; Sasori told Orochimaru once -the way the villagers discredited his art as a crime. Philistines, they all were. Nobody, not even his surviving grandmother - _especially_ his own grandmother - ever understood the beauty that Sasori saw with human puppetry, except for Orochimaru.

In the end, Sasori couldn’t draw a certain conclusion, because Sasori couldn’t tell if Orochimaru was even petty enough to aggravate Sasori, or if Sasori was even worth aggravating to him in the first place.

Deidara and Sasori trekked through the barren desert. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the sun was high in the sky like a deity’s watchful eye. Sasori remembered his fondness for the desert - the all-encompassing heat of the day, and the cool breezes that would seep in through Sasori’s bedroom window at night. The desert was quiet and empty, resembling a blank canvas that Sasori could paint to his heart’s content. Before the workshop, it was Sasori’s sanctuary back at Suna. The silence let him think and work; it graciously gave him space.  

Not anymore, though.

As they made their way uphill, Sasori cleared his thoughts away. He’d been reminiscing about Orochimaru enough already; he didn’t need any more sentimentality now. Besides, Sasori couldn’t feel anything anymore. Not the wind, not the heat, and certainly not an ounce of mercy for a traitor.  

Once they reached the top, they gazed far into the distance and spotted a great rocky dome at the center of the desert.

“Is that Orochi-whatever’s hideout?” Deidara asked.

“Yeah.”

Deidara bent to look at Hiruko. “What’s our plan, Master?” he asked quietly.

Honestly, the only thing Sasori knew about Deidara was that he made clay that could explode, which majorly contradicted Sasori’s preference for stealth. He really didn’t want to bother with knowing more about the kid; Deidara was young, stupid, and attracted too much attention with his loud voice and his loud explosions. That was all Sasori knew and needed to know. He was going to die sooner or later.

Sasori thought about it for a moment, then replied, “Just stay up here and make sure he doesn’t get away.”

Deidara looked unimpressed. “You want me to just watch? That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing else?”

“Yes,” Hiruko hissed impatiently.

“So, even if you get into trouble, I should just stay put, because that’s what you told me. Right?”

“Are you so stupid that I have to repeat myself thrice?” Sasori snapped. “I’ll handle him alone.”

Deidara scoffed. “You know what? Fine, do whatever you want.” He stormed off and a giant clay dragon materialized with a puff. Deidara jumped on its back and began ascending high in the sky. “Have fun getting your ass kicked!” he yelled from above as he flew towards the hideout.

Sasori rolled his eyes as Deidara’s figure shrunk into the distance. Sasori turned back to Orochimaru’s hideout.

“Take your seat,” Sasori murmured. “The performance is about to begin.”

* * *

Sensing Orochimaru’s chakra wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Sasori could feel him, though it felt different, like it was Orochimaru but in a different body.

It all made sense when Sasori finally found him - or her, rather. Orochimaru - or at least a woman who bore a striking resemblance to him - lay in bed, a towel over her damp forehead, impossibly paler than Orochimaru already was. From a glance, the body seemed freshly inhabited - which meant Orochimaru was essentially helpless in this current state.

Sasori thought it was too good to be true, so he stayed hidden in the shadows.

“Oh, Sasori-kun.”

Sasori fired a barrage of poisoned senbon in Orochimaru’s direction. Sasori guessed right; it _was_ too good to be true. Orochimaru stepped into the candlelight and smirked at him. He did looked a lot weaker - his face sagged and his arms lolled lifelessly at his sides. The contours  of his face protruded menacingly from the candlelight.

“I knew you would come,” Orochimaru rasped. “I was expecting you to.”

“Then you know this is where it ends.” The tip of Hiruko’s tail glinted dangerously in the dim light.

Orochimaru’s laugh came out more like a cough. “After everything we’ve been through together, you would point your tail at me so quickly?”

“You betrayed us.” _Me_.

Orochimaru quirked a brow. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I gave you a chance, remember? In fact, before I ‘betrayed’ you, you betrayed me first.”

Sasori seethed quietly.  

“I thought you knew, Sasori-kun,” Orochimaru said, and he began walking around Sasori, like a spider moving to weave its web. “That it was all part of a bigger plan.”

“You planned this from the start,” Sasori accused, but it came out sounding unsure. He looked down at his hands and realized his hand was shaking again. That was truly odd.

“You really are still just a child,” Orochimaru said, running his fingers down Hiruko’s back, and slid fluidly to the side to avoid a strike from Sasori’s tail. “I can see you, even if you don’t show your face to me. You are afraid. That’s why you didn’t kill her,” he tilted his head towards the woman in the bed with a knowing smile.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Sasori snarled, sweeping Hiruko’s tail around him. Orochimaru dodged calmly.

“That’s not what I meant,” Orochimaru snickered. “What I meant was that you’re afraid to lose me.”

Sasori aimed his tail at Orochimaru again, this time with more precision, more intention to _kill_ , yet it swiped at thin air again and again as Orochimaru evaded each attack looking composed as ever. Sasori stopped to summon the Third Kazekage.

“I know you inside out, Sasori-kun,” Orochimaru cackled. “I could read you from the moment you showed your art to me. You are afraid to be alone - isn’t that why you surround yourself with as many puppets as possible?”

“Shut up, traitor.” The Third lunged at Orochimaru, with a twitch of Sasori’s fingers, poison-coated saws unsheathed.

“You turn everyone worthy into a puppet because you can’t stand them leaving you.” Orochimaru ducked to avoid the attack. The Third chased after Orochimaru around the room. Medical equipment cascaded down from the shelves as the puppet crashed into them, and Orochimaru continued to stay frustratingly out of reach.

“You’ve managed to keep everybody close…” Orochimaru transformed into a bed of snakes that charged at Hiruko. Sasori activated the torpedo-shaped mechanism on Hiruko’s left arm and released a rain of needles towards the writhing mass of snakes. They fell limp on the floor as the poison sunk in.

Sasori relaxed for a moment until they twitched to life and moved again, faster than Sasori could react to. They gathered to reveal Orochimaru’s form standing still and steady behind him.  

“Except me.” Orochimaru’s long tongue licked a streak of poison from Hiruko’s cheek.

Sasori let loose a gigantic sphere of Iron Sand spikes that tore the hideout apart.

* * *

Sasori retreated atop a huge boulder as the base collapsed. He couldn’t sense Orochimaru’s chakra anywhere.

“Hey, Master!”

Sasori looked up to see Deidara hovering above him from his dragon.  

“Well? Did you get your ass kicked?” Deidara yelled.

Hiruko glared at him. “Get down here and help me look for his body.”

Deidara landed nimbly on the ground, and with a flick of his finger, the dragon vanished.

The sun had begun sinking by the time Deidara finally spoke up. “He’s not here.”

“Didn’t you see him leave?”

“No.”

“How couldn’t you? That was your only job.”

Deidara rolled his eyes. “Because he really didn’t come out of the base.”

“There’s only one way in and out. There’s no way you could have missed it.”

“I really didn’t see anything! Are you so stupid that I have to repeat myself?”

Sasori saw red. His tail was around Deidara in an instant, tightening around his body like a python. Deidara struggled in his grasp.

“Let me go, asshole!” Deidara growled. “Don’t blame me because your partner left you!”

“You _really_ want me to stitch that mouth close, huh? Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Maybe… if you weren’t so damn uptight, then you wouldn’t have to act like I’m trying… to get you killed.” Deidara struggled to speak as his face purpled from the lack of oxygen.

“Maybe if you weren’t such an annoying little brat, it wouldn’t be so appealing to kill you.”

“Agh!” Deidara raised his middle and pointer fingers. “You…” Deidara hacked. “Asked… for it!”

A clay spider skittered up Hiruko’s tail and detonated with enough force to startle Sasori into dropping the brat. If anything happened to his tail he was going to _kill_ _him._

Deidara emerged from the smoke coughing, eyes wild with rage. “Will you _please_ calm the fuck down?!”

“My tail—”

“Your tail is fine! _Now_ you look!” Deidara jabbed a finger towards Hiruko’s tail. It was charred, but mostly undamaged. Sasori could restore it back to perfect condition with barely any effort.

“Look,” Deidara began, and he coughed violently again, hands clutching on his knees. He inhaled deeply before speaking. “Look, I… I get it. He left, and you want to get back at him. You’re," he swallowed hard before saying it, " _angry_ , yeah?” 

Sasori wanted to snap back at him, to say that Deidara knew nothing, but suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Sasori felt weary all of a sudden, like crushing the air out of Deidara’s lungs had also sucked the wrath out of him.

“But if we’re going to be partners…” Deidara grimaced as he thumped at his chest with a balled up fist. “We’ve gotta… work together somehow, yeah?”

Sasori stayed silent. He stared at Deidara for a moment before he turned around.

“Let’s just go back,” Sasori said, walking away.

Deidara scoffed and shook his head disbelievingly. “Lead the way, Master.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sasori's anger simmers down, he is forced by Pein to reconcile with Deidara.

On the ride back to the Akatsuki lair, the sun continued to sink lower into the sea of clouds. It was another familiar sight. Back at Suna, Sasori had watched the sunset countless times as he waited for his parents to come home. He distinctly remembered how beautiful the sunset was just as it was smothered by the flushed clouds. Eventually, though, Sasori had arrived at a bittersweet realization: every sunset had an end, no matter how beautiful it may be. It was for that very reason that Sasori’s appreciation for sunsets diminished greatly. After all, what was the point of something beautiful if it wouldn’t last anyway?

Deidara moved closer to get a better view. Only half of the sun could be seen now, and the reddish clouds were wrapping themselves around it as if they were guiding the sun back home.

Deidara tilted his head thoughtfully before turning to Sasori with a smile. “It’s beautiful, yeah?” The sunset lit Deidara’s face from this angle, blending warmly with his features. His blue eyes shone like a clear blue sky, and his blonde hair glowed with the sun. At that moment, Sasori finally felt something other than ire and bloodlust for the kid. For the first time since Orochimaru left, Sasori felt… calm.

Sasori made Hiruko nod once.

Deidara looked surprised that Sasori’s first reaction wasn’t to lash out at him. Deidara smiled at him brightly before he looked back at the horizon.

Deidara was surprisingly quiet the whole flight back. Not that Sasori minded. Orochimaru’s encounter left Sasori quite uneasy, so it gave him to think. Sasori routinely monitored every thought that passed through his head to ensure that there was no room for irrationalities or distractions. He was a puppet, after all; an intelligent, sentient puppet, at that, and just like with his other creations, Sasori needed to maintain himself regularly.  

Sasori tried to rationalize his behavior for the last few days. His hand shaking, his hyper-attention to details - these were too resemblant of human instincts. Not to mention how Orochimaru had been occupying a majority of his thoughts recently. That was irrational. As far as Sasori was concerned, the only things he should be thinking about were art and missions. Anything else didn’t - _shouldn’t_ matter as much. Sasori didn’t want to admit it, less acknowledge that something Deidara had said even made sense, but the brat may have been right.

Maybe Sasori _was_ angry. Why he was so angry to the point of irrationality, though, Sasori refused to analyze.

As the sun finally faded from view, Sasori heard Deidara whisper something to himself. It was barely audible because of the howling winds, but Sasori heard it as clear as day.

“The art of a fleeting moment,” Deidara mused, sighing out loud. “It truly is beautiful.”  

Sasori decided that once he was in a better state of mind, the first thing he’d do was correct Deidara’s view on art accordingly.

* * *

Later that night, Pein summoned Sasori alone. Deidara had already made himself scarce in his room.

“Report,” Pein ordered succinctly.

“We found his hideout and tried to kill him, but he got away. He’s probably setting up somewhere else new as we speak.”

“Any reason that you care to provide as to why Orochimaru escaped?” Every word was effortlessly spoken with cold authority.

Pein was one of the few people who’d seen Sasori’s true form; as a result, Sasori could practically sense their leader’s aloof gaze piercing through Hiruko’s slitted eyes and right into Sasori’s real grey brown ones. His Rinnegan only stressed the fact that Sasori couldn’t hide anything from the man no matter how much he tried.

“I don’t have an excuse,” Sasori conceded.

“It isn’t like you to simply accept failure, Sasori.”

Although Pein was right, Sasori didn’t appreciate the fact that their leader was starting to pick up on Sasori’s anomalies, too. “It won’t happen again,” he promised.

“I hope you are not letting sentimentality get in the way of your work, Sasori. Orochimaru may be your former partner, but he is a threat to our plans now.”

Sasori simply stayed silent at that.

Pein chose to probe Sasori on another touchy subject. “How is your new partner?”

 _Partner_. The word was essentially harmless on its own, but to Sasori, it felt like tasting his own poison. “He’s still in one piece,” he answered disinterestedly.  

“I meant your relationship with him. It seems that you’ve done most of the work, so how was Deidara injured?”

 _Because he’s an idiot,_ Sasori stopped himself from saying. “He was being rude.”

“ _You strangled him_.”

“I was showing him the ropes.” Sasori twitched Hiruko’s mouth into a sadistic smile. “That’s the protocol of Akatsuki towards newcomers, isn’t it?”

Sasori was still a human back when he was forcefully recruited into Akatsuki, so Konan’s papercuts took months before they fully healed. The papercuts sliced deeply enough that they tore through skin and muscle. Sasori had rightfully learned his lesson since that day.

“That’s the recruitment protocol. Getting along with your partner is a different story.”

“But—”

“Orochimaru and Deidara are two different people,” Pein said. “You must understand that.”

“I _know_ that—”

“Knowing is different from understanding. And you don’t seem to understand what it means to value your comrades. Do you, Sasori?”

Sasori froze. He felt that familiar surge of anger again, but it was unfocused like it didn’t know where to go. For a moment, he considered telling Pein what had been on his mind for the past days. A partner only slowed him down. Sasori was a puppet master; the only attachments he should have were the strings on his fingers.

Sasori was no fool, though. He knew that he’d be shot down the moment he tried. It was useless - he was going to have to stomach working with that brat, whether he liked it or not.

“I do.”

“Deidara is still new to the Akatsuki. Teach him the ropes,” Pein’s Rinnegan widened ominously ever so slightly, “without lifting a blade to his flesh.”

Sasori’s hand was shaking again. He angrily pushed the wind out of Hiruko’s throat to reply a forcefully calm, “ _Understood_.”

At least Sasori already had an idea of where to start.

* * *

Deidara was probably the last person on earth that Sasori would want for a partner, but in different circumstances, he probably would have tolerated the kid simply because of his interest in art. The shinobi world was infested with philistines. Everybody was usually busy getting stronger; for Sasori, however, power was never quite a struggle. When his former mentors back at Suna learned that Chiyo’s five-year-old grandson could already use chakra strings, they were quick to put him on a pedestal. They would call him a “child prodigy”, a “natural genius”, but it didn’t take long before their opinions soured. He had just started getting into human puppetry, and they had already treated his concepts with disdain. Freak, monster, psycho - Sasori could name each of his puppets a different pet name with the list that the villagers came up with.  

That was why when Sasori found the little kid in a dim corner of the Akatsuki base, molding clay with those palm mouths of his, Sasori couldn’t help but see a little bit of his past self in Deidara.

Sasori knew what he came here for, though. He wasn’t about to allow sentimentality to interfere with his work again…

“Hey… kid.”

Deidara turned with an annoyed expression, as if he was being rudely interrupted from his art, but it quickly changed into one of alarm. He probably hadn’t expected Sasori to talk to him.

“Oh. Does the leader want us to do something?”

Sasori couldn’t help but notice that Deidara sounded a little nervous. Even an idiot could figure out why.

“No.” Sasori made Hiruko approach him slowly, as if he were walking on thin ice. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Deidara smirked. “Is it an apology?”

Sasori scoffed. “No.”

Deidara puffed his cheeks in disappointment. “Didn’t think so…”

“You had it coming, brat. Now listen carefully.”

To Sasori’s surprise, Deidara actually listened intently to what he had to say. He couldn’t tell if it was because Sasori revealed that he wanted to talk about art - apparently the kid’s favorite topic on earth - or because he was afraid of what Sasori would do if he missed even a single word.

But Sasori was even more surprised that after his long and detailed explanation on why true art was eternal beauty, Deidara asked him, “Does something lose its beauty just because it doesn’t last forever?”

It was a valid question - Sasori just didn’t expect Deidara actually conceiving a sensible statement. Valid as it may be, though, Sasori was determined to teach Deidara his own version of “the ropes.”

“What’s the point of something that disappears as soon as it’s born?” Sasori rolled his eyes.  

“Isn’t it the opposite? Anything _is_ beautiful because it doesn’t last. You only have a few precious moments to admire it before it’s gone. That way, you can appreciate it more.” Deidara brightened with a grin as the idea occurred to him. “Like the sunset!”

Deidara clamped his mouth shut when he realized he was getting ahead of himself. He tensed as if waiting for the swipe of Sasori’s tail. Sasori didn’t, though. Instead, Sasori considered Deidara from inside of his puppet. Even though Sasori was concealed by Hiruko, Deidara’s wary gaze seemed to pierce through Hiroko to meet Sasori’s real eyes. It wasn’t like Pein, who made Sasori feel invaded; it wasn’t like Orochimaru either, who made Sasori feel like Orochimaru was always two steps ahead of him, who made him feel so small.

Sasori almost thought that he and Deidara had reached a point of understanding, as tentative it may be, despite everything.  

“Sorry, Master,” Deidara said when he couldn’t take the silence anymore. “I—”

“It’s fine."

Deidara blinked. If Sasori was still a human, he sure would have too, if he were in Deidara’s shoes.

“It… It is?” Deidara blurted.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Sasori said. “I’ll be teaching you the ropes. Same place.”

Deidara grinned as Sasori turned away to leave the room. “Got it.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasori and Deidara learn about each other's trade; will it prove useful in their next mission?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is thrice as long as my usual length! I hope you enjoy. ^-^
> 
> Edit (7/14/2019): Removed some paragraphs in the first scene, and another scene. Also cut down lots of adverbs. If you were here before it got removed - please pretend it wasn't even there ^^;; I want to improve this fic as much as I can, even if it is just a fanfic. I made these changes for a reason. Oh, and constructive criticism is still very much welcomed. Chapter 5 is currently in the works. Trying to give it more time so it can be as good as possible. Thank you so much again for everyone's support!!!

True to his word, Sasori turned up at the same place the next morning. He was pleased to see that Deidara was already standing there before he did; if he and Deidara were really going to work together, then the first thing that the kid would have to master was to never keep Sasori waiting.

Deidara also looked a little more professional now, trading his kimono for the standard uniform Akatsuki members wore under the signature cloak. His long hair was neatly tied in a ponytail. Deidara may be a loudmouth, but at least he wasn’t too much of an eyesore.

Deidara waited until Sasori settled down next to him. He fumbled slightly for the right amount of distance until Sasori pointed his tail at a specific spot—about a foot away in front of him. With Deidara cross-legged and slightly hunched to hear Sasori better, he appeared smaller and more inferior to Hiruko, whose tail loomed over Deidara—a clear message for him if he didn’t pay close attention to Sasori.

“You forgot your nails,” Sasori pointed out. “It’s a requirement.”

“Ah, crap—uh, my apologies, Master. I’ll get to it as soon as—”

“That can be done later. For now, we continue where we left off yesterday. You should remember since you claimed that art is your specialty.”

Deidara relaxed a bit at that. “Right. So, uh, yesterday, you were saying that eternal beauty was true art, yeah? You believe that art is everlasting, and… all that, hm. Then I, uh, disagreed because I think true art is an explosion.” Deidara paused, glancing anxiously at Hiruko’s tail.

Sasori sighed and retracted his tail. “Go on, explain yourself.”

Deidara smiled sheepishly at the gesture. His gaze fell on the ground as he struggled to find the proper words. “I can’t really explain it, Master. I just… _feel_ art.”

“You feel art,” Sasori echoed dryly. 

“I do! I just do.” Deidara stood up. “I can show it to you if you want! That'd be better.”

Sasori reluctantly made a grunt of assent. Deidara grinned, reached for a handful of clay in his pouch and fed it to his palm’s mouth. Within a few seconds, the mouth spat out a tiny clay butterfly. It spread its porcelain-white wings and flew above them before it burst violently into an explosion of sparks and colors, resonating throughout the cave. 

Deidara smiled at his work, soft with admiration. “It’s so beautiful,” he sighed. “In that single fleeting moment, you witness both the birth and death of a being. It’s like watching a sped-up metamorphosis, yeah?”

Something about Deidara's words evoked a strange curiosity in Sasori. It did not match with Sasori’s philosophy at all, but he understood where Deidara was coming from. He had to admit—it took some level of intelligence to appreciate such a concept. 

“Hmph,” Sasori said. "You've shown enough. But you do not understand true art—I will show you."  

Deidara’s jaw dropped. “Are you an artist like me too, Master?” he asked, barely containing the excitement in his voice.

Sasori couldn’t help but smile a little in the privacy of Hiruko’s shell. Now that was a first - even Orochimaru simply quirked a brow when Sasori revealed he was an artist. This time, however, Deidara reacted as if he had just discovered a long-lost treasure that he’d been searching for a long time. Sasori drew the scroll of his favorite puppet and summoned the Third Kazekage; it materialized with a puff of smoke. 

“Ooh!” Deidara scuttled closer to examine the puppet. “So… you’re a puppet master, yeah?” he said, narrowing his eyes at the Third’s lifeless gaze.

“I see that your observational skills are still working,” Sasori chuckled. Deidara’s enthusiasm was… quite contagious. He was poking his head everywhere to inspect every detail of Sasori’s masterpiece. Sure, it was a little annoying since it was Deidara, but…

“What can it do?” Deidara interrupted Sasori's train of thought. 

The Third opened its mechanical mouth and began producing a flurry of Iron Sand that slowly shaped into a six-inch nail. Remembering Pein’s specific instructions, Sasori purposely aimed the gigantic nail at a stray boulder and, with a flick of his finger, launched it in that direction.

“Coooool!” Deidara drawled the word. “Did you develop that technique for the puppet, or…?”

Sasori proceeded to explain the principles of human puppetry while Deidara listened with unmatched enthusiasm, even asking for clarifications every now and then. If he knew he'd be discussing art with the brat a few days ago, perhaps he wouldn't have been so quick to anger. 

* * *

Pein summoned them for another mission later that day. They were actually in the middle of a heated debate about art when he called them. Sasori smirked because Deidara was on the winning side of the argument at the time, so he sulked when his explanation on why explosions were superior to poisons (Deidara insisted that explosions killed instantaneously, whereas poisons needed time to sink in and an antidote neutralized its effect completely) was suddenly cut off and he was transported to another place in the cavern instead.

“I apologize for interrupting your little discussion,” Pein greeted coolly. “I am pleased to see improvements in your relationship, though.”

Neither of them said anything in answer to that, but Sasori did notice a faint smile tug at Deidara’s lips.

“I hope that will prove useful in your mission. You are to covertly steal a classified document from Iwagakure. The document consists of war strategies against other villages.”

Deidara’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Cool,” he whispered. Sasori huffed at the subconscious display of childish arrogance. 

Pein looked at Sasori just like he did that one night. It was a cold, piercing, and imperative gaze. Even without having said a word, though, Sasori understood what he was being asked to do.

“Good luck.” With that, Pein flickered out of existence.

Silence fell upon them. A moment later, Deidara cleared his throat. “It’s going to take us a few days to get there, yeah?”

Hiruko nodded at him. Sasori knew what this meant and was already thinking about it.

“We better get going, yeah?” Deidara said.

Sasori’s head cleared with purpose. “Let’s go.”

* * *

“I heard you guys had to walk all the time before I came around,” Deidara said conversationally as they flew past the moors and mountains below them. “Is that also why you guys wanted to recruit me? So I can give you all a ride?”

“Perhaps,” Sasori replied dryly. Deidara had been trying to strike conversation for the past hour now, and although it wasn’t as worse as before, Sasori was starting to get fed up with it. Deidara had this mysterious ability to sustain a conversation even with the tersest of Sasori’s answers. The kid was persistent, Sasori had to give him that.

“Must’ve been a pain, yeah?”

“I suppose.”

Deidara pouted. “Master, aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“Because I am.”

“What a shame.”

Deidara made a face. “Don’t just say that! Let’s stop somewhere to eat. Please, Master?”

“Do whatever you want.”

They stopped by a small dango shop in the middle of nowhere and settled outside on one of the benches. Sasori watched as Deidara wolfed down a box in a few minutes.

“Want one?” Deidara offered Sasori a syrupy stick with his mouth full.

“No.”

“You’re missing out, Master.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Deidara narrowed his eyes. “You don’t like dango, huh?”

As a matter of fact, Sasori did like dango, especially the ones made in Suna. He had long since relinquished worldly desires for a higher pursuit, though. 

“I’m not hungry,” Sasori repeated.

“Will it hurt to try?” Deidara had already polished off his first stick and was chewing on another one. “Come on, it’s really good.”

“I’m _not_ hungry,” Sasori snapped, aiming Hiruko’s tail at him.

Deidara scowled in disappointment, put the stick he was offering to Sasori in his mouth and ate in silence.

“I don’t like waiting,” Sasori told him. “So hurry up and finish eating.”

Deidara sulked as he finished his last stick. “Killjoy,” he muttered, and cleaned up the empty plastic boxes.

* * *

“I’ll keep watch,” Sasori informed Deidara that night. “You can sleep.”

Deidara’s gaze turned from their small fire to Hiruko. He did look sleepy (and still a little sulky from a while ago). The shadows on his face danced as the flames beneath him flickered back and forth.

“You Akatsuki are something else,” Deidara complained, eyes half-lidded with drowsiness.

“Think whatever you want, brat. I don’t care.”

Deidara rolled his eyes as he shook his head disapprovingly. “I don’t get you at all,” he muttered, got on his feet, and retreated to his sleeping bag.

Ironically, Sasori was left to wait until the sun rose by himself.

* * *

Two days later, they finally arrived at the outskirts of Iwa. The sunset had long passed and the skies were a deep, dark blue.

The mission would’ve been a piece of cake for Sasori alone. Since Sasori had a spy network from across the world to gather intel for him, all he’d need to do was to activate his technique on his sleeper agent in Iwa and instruct him to fetch them what they needed.

It would have been over already if it were up to him, but instead, he and the brat had to wait until night time on a rugged hill outside of the village. Sasori knew by now that this wasn’t simply a mission—it was a test.

The scenery was strikingly familiar to their previous mission back at Suna, which Sasori also didn’t quite appreciate. The rocky dome of Iwagakure stood out in the barren stretch of land that was sparsely decorated by thick shrubs and scrawny trees.

“Alright, Master,” Deidara began. “What’s the plan?”

“I have another spy in Iwa. Once he scouts the area, I’ll tell you what to do,” Sasori said, and focused his chakra onto the needle that he’d planted in his spy’s brain. Within a few seconds, Sasori could see from another pair of eyes. His spy’s name was Rei, a jounin tasked with arranging the files of Iwa’s documents and scrolls, so he fit Sasori’s purposes perfectly. It also helped that since Rei often spent his time in the archives, only a few remembered his name and face, so he was able to explore restricted areas without raising much suspicion.

Deidara made a petulant scowl. “You better not put me on watch duty again.”

Rei was actually in the middle of a meeting, so they’d have to do the very thing that Sasori hated the most: waiting. Sasori clicked his artificial tongue in annoyance.

“Hey…” Deidara complained.

“Wait quietly, brat,” Sasori snapped.

“But you said you don’t like to wait,” Deidara retorted. “This was my village, you know. So I’d know where to look for dirt, yeah?”

It was better than waiting in awkward silence as Deidara moved around like an insect anyway, so Sasori decided to humor him. “Where, then?”

“The old man doesn’t keep classified documents in the archives. It’s in his office, the tallest building at the center of the village. Second drawer of his desk.”

“How do you know?”

“I was his student,” Deidara replied simply. “Been there a lot.”

Sasori was skeptical, but he supposed that Deidara would not have a reason to lie. He was a wanted terrorist who aided anti-government factions with bombings, after all—it would be foolish for Deidara to try and escape now.

“Do you think he’s still there?” Sasori asked.

“No, he doesn’t work at night. He likes to rest early, if you know what I mean… hm.”

Sasori frowned at Deidara from inside of Hiruko, unable to follow his line of thinking. On the outside, Hiruko stared at Deidara blankly.

Deidara sighed. “Forget it.”

Sasori silently worked out a plan in his head. “I know you specialize in explosions, but you’re going to have to be very quiet,” he said after a moment.

“Of course.” Deidara unfolded his fist and showed Sasori a handful of tiny clay snakes. Sasori shook off an unpleasant memory at the sight. “An artist needs to adapt to his surroundings, yeah?”

“Correct. Now listen carefully.” Sasori crooked Hiruko’s tail at Deidara, who moved closer. “I’m going to attach a chakra string on you. You still remember how they work, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“When they’re attached to you, I can see where you’re going. I can’t talk to you, so you have to be careful when you get there. My spy will act as a distraction if need be. Understand?”

“Gotcha.”

“Remember the orders are to be covert. Don’t linger and just get what was asked.”

“I won’t let you down,” Deidara declared with conviction.

“You better not. Now move.”

Once Sasori attached a single chakra thread on Deidara’s back, Deidara set off.

Rei’s meeting was finally over. He was in the same building as the office, so Sasori instructed him to standby for now. Deidara had already taken out the entrance guards with his snakes; their bodies were left out in the open, though, and the charred holes on their backs were very telling of their cause of death. Sasori made a mental note to teach Deidara a simple genjutsu later.

Deidara passed through narrow alleys and dim streets as much as he could until he reached the street just beyond the office. Iwagakure’s tall buildings loomed over its residents like fearsome mountains. Deidara knew what he was doing, though—or at least he appeared to. He nimbly climbed the walls of nearby structures until he settled atop the rooftop of a building close enough to the office.

Deidara peeked to see that the office was empty and unlit. He leapt onto the office window and was just about to enter when Sasori twitched his finger. The chakra string caused Deidara to slightly lose his balance, but he caught himself effortlessly. He glanced back at Sasori in confusion, but kept hidden.

Rei rapped his knuckles against the office door. “Excuse me.”

Rei went in and opened the lights, and from his view, saw that the office was indeed empty. Deidara pouted behind him, went through the window, and crept to the desk on his haunches.

Deidara rummaged through the files, inconsiderate of the mess he was making.

“Who’s there?”

Deidara instantly hid behind the desk chair as someone approached Rei from the hallway.

“What’re you doing in grandpa’s office?” a girl who appeared to be a genin or a chuunin interrogated Rei.

“Ah, my apologies. I was looking for your grandfather, but he’s not here,” Rei replied, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

“Everybody knows that grandpa rests early. He’s got chronic back pain,” the girl chided.

Deidara successfully stifled a snort.

“I-Is that so…?” Rei stammered.

The girl narrowed her eyes at Rei suspiciously. “Have I seen you before? Are you new here?”

Rei presented his ID to her. “I’m from the Intelligence Division. I spend most of my time in the archives, so you probably don’t see me a lot.”

The girl looked at his ID and sized him up. Deidara had taken their conversation as an opportunity to keep searching; as the girl let out a soft sigh, Deidara finally found the document he had been looking for.

“I thought I sensed his chakra here,” the girl muttered to herself, looking dejected. “Well, if you want to catch grandpa next time, he’s usually here during the day. Though that’s kind of common sense.”

“U-Understood!”

The girl gave Rei a peculiar look and side-eyed the office desk where Deidara was still hidden. She looked like she wanted to investigate, but in the end, decided not to.

Without another word, the girl turned the opposite direction and left.

Deidara waited until her footsteps were out of earshot and leapt out of the window, document in hand.

Mission success.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everybody! i just want to thank everybody for the supportive and kind comments! i'm sorry this took so long omg. i hope you enjoy this chapter! and i deeply appreciate constructive criticism!!

“Not bad, huh?” Deidara said as he found Hiruko lurking in the same shrub he left him.

Sasori opened Hiruko’s arm compartment for Deidara to give him the scroll. He skimmed through the text and found the information they were looking for: the abilities of the Five Tails and his host. 

“I suppose not,” Sasori said. “It certainly could have gone worse.”

“But it didn’t,” Deidara beamed, feeding the mouth in his palm a lump of clay. With a few tender presses from his fingertips, the clay had turned into a little dragon. Witnessing the process was becoming routine to Sasori. “Let’s go?” 

“Not yet.” Hiruko’s tail pointed at the village. “Hide those guards that you killed.” 

Deidara frowned. “But they’re dead anyway.” 

“The sooner someone discovers them, the sooner we will be compromised. Go back and cover your tracks.” 

Deidara rolled his head back and stomped back to the village. Sasori fixed his sight on the boy, doubly making sure that he did as he was told. Deidara unearthed the ground and buried the corpses; he covered the earth with a simple rock technique and returned to Sasori. 

“Can we go now?” Deidara’s tone was not unlike a child who wanted to return home.

“You snuck inside of a Kage’s office to steal a confidential document with little to no resistance,” Sasori remarked. “Is your village this incompetent, or are they setting up an ambush as we speak?” 

“Like. I. Said. I grew up here,” Deidara spoke each word slowly with increasing irritation, “It’s not like I know how to blend in. Can’t we just deal with whatever comes later? We already got what we want anyway.”

Sasori was incredulous at Deidara’s incaution, but he supposed there wasn’t much that they could do. “Fine,” he grumbled.

Sasori pretended not to see Deidara’s eye roll to prevent his exasperation from developing any further. The brat muttered something under his breath, climbed on the dragon’s back, and lowered one of its wings for him to follow suit. They fled into the night, leaving the stone village far behind.

The majority of the trip was quiet, with only the rushing wind as the background noise. Sasori still had trouble comprehending that he and Deidara were on better terms now, more or less. 

“Master?”

When they first met, Deidara had addressed him out of spite. Sasori was quite convinced that they were going to stay that way, but Deidara had a habit of defying Sasori’s expectations. Now Deidara spoke his epithet with care, always waiting for Sasori’s response first before anything.

“Hm?”

“Are you still angry at me?” 

The question took Sasori aback. It had only been a few days since their last mission, yet it felt like a month already passed. He and Deidara were even talking about art now. “No, I am not.” 

“I know you’re not really angry at me,” Deidara mused, turning to look at him. The moonlight reflected on one side of Deidara’s face, showing a gentle side to the volatile bomber. “You’re angry at him, but you’re just taking it out on me.” 

“Why bring this up, brat?”  

“Because somebody has to. You’re full of anger, Master. And it’s taking over you, little by little. I can feel it.” 

Sasori was stumped; he didn’t want to agree, but he couldn’t quite dispute that, either. 

“Worry about yourself, then,” Sasori said, trying to cut the conversation short. The trip back would be teeming with silence and tension, but he would rather have that small discomfort than dissect the nature of his psyche. Besides, Orochimaru was not a topic that he didn’t want to discuss with a child. “I will deal with it on my own.”

“By making me your punching bag? Uh uh. Two minds are better than one,” Deidara spoke with the pretentious air of a philosopher, “and I’ve got lots of suggestions for you to try..”

“I don’t want your—”

“Too late, Master!” Deidara announced, his voice returning to its usual loudness and energy. He suddenly stood up and grinned wickedly at something behind Sasori, who immediately put his guard up. He turned to see a flock of Iwa-nin on giant eagles chasing after them. Releasing a flock of clay doves from his hand mouths, Deidara set off a string of explosions in the calm night sky. “ _Katsu_!” 

“Brat!” Sasori’s blood boiled at Deidara’s insolence, but turned his attention to their pursuers. “Did you lead them to _us_?” 

“Yeah, ‘cuz you need a better punching bag! Now let everything out at them!” 

Sasori sliced the incoming chunks of rock pellets in their direction. One of the Iwa-nin emitted a plume of smoke; Deidara steered the dragon away from the smoke, compromising Sasori’s accuracy. 

“Kill them all, Master Sasori!” Deidara cheered behind him.

Sasori tore off Hiruko’s mask and unleashed a barrage of poisoned needles at the group; a black-haired kunoichi nullified his attack with a rock shield. 

“Bring him out,” Deidara whispered, a hint of excitement in his voice. 

“Focus on them, brat!” Sasori barked as he summoned the Third Kazekage, firing a volley of Iron Sand bullets at their pursuers. The strong night wind work in their favor, increasing the speed of the Iron Sand and making the bullets difficult to see in the dark. 

Two of the eagles vanished with a puff of smoke as the poison sunk in. Only one survivor remained—the kunoichi. She swooped in with her eagle to save her fallen comrades, creating a rocky shield around her to block Sasori’s attacks. Deidara’s clay doves flew into action and blasted her protection off, killing the eagle and allowing the Iron Sand to find their final target’s mark. 

“Art,” Deidara sighed reverently, watching his former fellow Iwa-nin fall to their deaths. 

“Get us down,” Sasori ordered. “Make sure this time they will not come back.” 

Deidara heeded him, lowering the dragon into the thick forest below. They dismounted the dragon and found the three Iwa-nin on the ground—two of them had passed out (or were already dead) while the surviving kunoichi struggled to move through the paralysis effect. 

“Stay,” Sasori told Deidara as he walked towards her.

The Iwa kunoichi coughed out blood and glared at Sasori through dazed, half-lidded eyes. She had medium-length black hair, slightly reminiscent of the object of Sasori’s hatred. With trembling hands, she began forming hand signs for one more rock technique, her brows knit in pain and determination.

_“You’re afraid. That’s why you didn’t kill her.”_

Sasori impaled her hand, interrupting her formation and eliciting a wail of agony from the kunoichi. With her free hand, she reached for her weapon holster—but her efforts were futile. She could barely move her fingers apart.

_“I’m not afraid of you,” Sasori snarled._

_Orochimaru snickered. “No, but you’re afraid to lose me.”_

Sasori removed his tail and aimed for her gut. His helpless victim let out a scream as she was torn apart. Sasori twisted his blade inside of her, blood staining Hiruko’s gleaming white tail and pooling all over the grass. 

_“You are still just a child,” Orochimaru taunted him, “afraid to be alone.”_

Sasori’s anger flared up. Red flooded his vision as his hand repeatedly made a clawing motion, striking viciously at the kunoichi over and over. Distantly, he knew the kunoichi was already dead, but he couldn’t care. His core was aching, and his hands were shaking yet again. He felt indignant that the human being in front of him could no longer feel pain—pain that even Sasori’s body couldn’t escape from; pain that kept haunting him. 

Sasori lashed out furiously at the corpse that was beyond recognition. It was only when the ache seemed to have waned and his hand stopped shaking that he stopped to look at the deformed corpse. He cleared his head, pretending that he was in his workshop. The corpse in front of him was just a puppet—and he was the one in control. 

_“You’ve managed to keep everyone close… except me.”_

Sasori scoffed. “Pathetic,” he muttered. 

Retracting Hiruko’s tail, Sasori turned away and made his way back to the dragon, where Deidara had been watching him the whole time with a smirk. Sasori felt a deep longing to return to his workshop—this mission had gone on long enough.

“Feel better?” Deidara asked. 

A swirl of emotions went through Sasori. He did feel somewhat relieved from taking his anger out on the kunoichi that looked like Orochimaru’s host, but he was still frustrated at Deidara for drawing enemies to them. Having no idea how to articulate his mixed sentiments, Sasori simply replied with a grunt. “Hn.”

Deidara rubbed his chin. “Hm… wonder what that means.”

“We should go,” Sasori said. 

“A question for another day,” Deidara agreed.

* * *

 

As soon as they finished reporting back to Pein, Sasori headed back to his workshop, ignoring Deidara’s lingering gaze as he watched the older man leave.  

Everything was the same as Sasori had left it days ago. The tools, the unfinished puppets—the empty side of the workshop still unoccupied, its former owner never to return. A thin layer of dust had settled on the cracks and corners of the tables and counters in his absence. Irritated at the mere sight of it, Sasori stepped out of his carapace and wiped his workspace clean. 

When the workshop was restored to his usual standards, Sasori settled atop the operating table in the center of the room and closed his eyes. Finally—some solitude. He cleared his thoughts and let his mind float into nothingness… but the ache in his core hindered him from doing so. He sighed. He thought that releasing his frustration on that kunoichi had finally taken the pain away; he did feel numb for a few hours until the ache returned again, although not as bad as last time. At least he was hurting less. 

This… wasn’t actually the first time he’d experienced pain even as a puppet—and from the looks of it, it didn’t seem to be the last. Even back when Sasori had nothing to do with the Akatsuki, the phantom pains crept up on him every now and then. He ignored it at first, believing that if he’d leave alone it would die on its own. But like an open wound, it instead festered into a horribly cryptic abnormality.  

His core would feel tight and painful, like a human heart clenching. There was nothing he could do to prevent it; once it came, he simply had to wait until it was gone, and he never knew how long it would take. Sometimes it lasted for a few minutes, other times an entire day—and with each episode, Sasori grew to fear his pain. His better judgment told him that he had to do something about it—but nothing honestly terrified him more than a force that could still hurt him even when he was no longer a human, and so he cast it away time and time again. 

Sometimes he wondered if he would truly never stop feeling pain—and that thought alone made him feel utterly powerless. 

“Pathetic,” Sasori muttered to himself as he got down from the operating table. He eyed Hiruko in the corner whose tail still had dried blood on it. Sasori reached for the cleaning mixture and washrag, sat down next to his puppet and began to rub the filth away. 

His mood seemed to fade as he took care of his favorite puppet until he felt a particularly sharp stab in his core. In that blind moment of agony, Sasori lost control over the chakra coming from his core; the chakra focused in his hand overflowed, causing his fingers to shake more violently than before. Sasori waved his hand away in a fit of panic, and had he not realized his mistake in time, he would have died in a terribly humiliating fashion. 

Hiruko’s tail was inches away from piercing through his heart. 

Sasori stayed still; he fought through the crushing pain and scrambled away from Hiruko like one of his helpless victims. He huddled himself into one corner of the room until the pain and shaking stopped. The center of his chest felt unbelievably tight, like he was being suffocated to death. For a moment, he truly considered that dreadful premise was coming true. 

Sasori grimaced as he did his best to stay still; any sudden movement while he was unstable was too dangerous. No, he was not going to die like this. He couldn’t. He leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes tight. He could get through this. He just had to fight it. _Think_. _Think about anything but the pain._

Amidst the haze, Sasori’s mind turned to his little brat of a partner. Sasori was certain that if Deidara was here, he’d be prattling unsolicited advice while Sasori suffered in agony. _“Silly Master Sasori! Of course you have to let the anger out, or else you’re going to explode! Hm!”_

It felt like an eternity until Sasori finally realized he had control over his own body again; he’d leaned his head back against the wall, weary from the pain. He took a moment to collect himself and studied his hand, which was no longer shaking. He flexed the joints and shifted his fingers to his will, securing his power as the puppeteer once more. 

Once he composed himself, Sasori stood up and smashed a stray bottle in the direction of Orochimaru’s old workspace. 

* * *

 The next morning, Sasori stepped outside of his workshop, his head was clear with purpose. He went around the chambers of the Akatsuki lair, looking for his partner. 

Sasori went back to their old meeting spot and, to his luck, found Deidara playing with clay yet again. He’d made quite a mess around himself; an assortment of clay animals littered the space around him. He seemed to be experimenting with different arachnids—one of them even looked like a scorpion. 

Deidara turned behind to acknowledge Sasori’s presence, tilting his head. “Whatcha want?”

“Gather your things,” Sasori said. “We are leaving.” 

Deidara smirked. “Got more anger to take out, huh?” He sealed his clay sculptures in a scroll and tucked it away in his pouch before getting to his feet. “Where we going, Master?”

“A small country not far from here.”

“What’s the agenda?”

"We're going to conquer it." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> One comment, one happy fanfic writer.


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